^•^  ,  / 


Ci 


r^ 


Stom  f  ^e  feifirari?  of 

(pxofmox  TTiffiam  (giiffer  (pa;rfon,  ©,©.,  Efe.®. 

^teeenfe^  6)?  (JJltre.  (J?a;cton 

to  t^e  fetfimri?  of 


(J)rincef on  C^eofogicdf  ^eminarg 

BR  1725  .G662  1871 
Goodell,  C.  L. 
In  memoriam,  Mrs.  Eleanor 
Bruce  Stephens  :  loc 


NOTE— TO    FRIENDS. 


It  is  due  not  less  to  myself  than  to  both  the  esteemed  Auth( 
and  Publishers  (whose  prompt  attention  and  skill  I  would  hei 
gratefully  acknowledge,)  to  explain  that  the  long  delay  in  issuir 
this  memorial  volume  is  wholly  owing  to  repeated  accidents  an 
failures  in  efforts  to  obtain  pictures  that  would  be  truly  a  Ukent 
of  the  Subject  and  acceptable  to  the  Friends ;  but  whilst  tl 
result,  as  to  engraving,  is  not  all  that  was  expected,  yet  it 
hoped  so  much  change  for  the  better  has  been  made  as  to  seem 
compensation  for  all  this  tedious  waiting,  which  to  myself,  mo 
than  to  others,  has  been  a  source  of  deep  disappointment  and  regre 

H.     C.    STEPHENS. 
New  Britain,  Conn.,  Dec,  1870. 


JIeNRY    p.     ^TEPHEN^. 


V 

REV.  C.  L.  GOODELL. 


l^reoious  in  th.e  sight  of"  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  hi 
Saints.    Ps.  exvi.  15. 


HARTFORD: 

PRESS  OF  CASE,  LOCKWOOD  &  BRAINARD. 

1871. 


^ 


T 


^ 


This  Memorial,  written  by  an  esteemed  friend  and 
pastor  as  a  tribute  of  affectionate  sympathy  in  days  of 
darkness  and  sorrow,  is  printed  with  loving  care  for  the 
eye  of  friends,  and  dedicated  to  the  dear  one  whose 
memory  is  a  joy  to  the  heart,  whom  her  presence  can 
cheer  no  more  till  the  great  sun-rising. 

H.   C.  S. 

New  Britain,  October,  1869. 


^i^/^-^^c/t-J^ 


l^ . 


I  Corinthians,  xv  :  42,  43,  44. 


"  So  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  it  is  sown  in  corruption, 
it  is  raised  in  incorruption  ;  it  is  sown  in  dishonor,  it  is  raised  in 
glory;  it  is  sown  in  weakness,  it  is  raised  in  power  5  it  is  sown  a 
natural  body,  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body.  There  is  a  natural  body, 
and  there  is  a  spiritual  body." 

The  resurrection  of  the  dead  was  a  very 
precious  doctrine  to  the  apostles  and  early 
Christians.  It  was  an  important  and  formative 
article  in  their  creeds;  and  so  long  as  the 
blood  of  Christ  was  warm  in  the  veins  of  his 
followers,  it  was  a  vital  power  in  their  hearts. 
When  friends  died  "they  comforted  one  an- 
other with  these  words."  When  they  thought 
of  the  "cold  and  narrow  house"  to  which  thev 


themselves  were  hastening,  they  were  sustained 
by  an  unfaltering  trust  in  Him  "who  is  the 
resurrection  and  the  Hfe."     In   the    midst  of 
the   fiercest  persecutions,  they  found   in  the 
doctrine  an  unspeakable  solace  and  support. 
"  The  glorious  company  of  the  apostles,  the 
goodly  fellowship  of  the  prophets,  the  noble 
army  of  martyrs,"  all  lived  and  died  in  this 
blessed  hope.     We  speak  of  Jesus  as  the  cru- 
cified  Son;    they,  while   they  were  not  less 
mindful  of  His  death,  rejoiced  yet  more   in 
the   power  of  His   endless    life.       To  them 
Christ  was  the  risen  one.     We  incline  to  look 
more  on    His  life  and  death;    they  on    His 
resurrection   and    glorious   reappearing.      To 
them,  Christ  was  not  only  crucified  for  their 
sins,  but  risen  and  regnant,  "the  first  fruits"  of 
all   that  fall   asleep   in   Him.     Out  of    that 
period  of  His  life  which  lies  the  other  side  of 
Calvary^   they,  as  transgressors,   found   peace 


and  pardon;    out  of  that  which  Hes  on  this 
side,  they  as  Christians  found  sanctification  and 
the  hope  of  resurrection  to  eternal  Hfe.     And 
in  every  age,  as  the  Christian  has  seen  his 
treasures  snatched  away  by  the  hand  of  death, 
and  the  body  resolved  back  to  earth,  he  has 
been  calm  and  trustful.     He  has  looked  for 
the  time  when  the  Lord  Jesus  should  "  change 
his  vile  body,  that  it  might  be  fashioned  like 
unto    His    glorious    body,   according   to    the 
working  whereby  He  is  able  to  subdue  all 
things   unto   Himself"      Like   music   in  the 
night,  these  promises  of  Revelation  fall  upon 
the   ear  of  sorrow   and   bereavement  in  the 
midst  of  funereal  blackness. 

The  words  of  St.  Paul,  we  have  chosen,  do 
not  lead  us  to  discuss  the  general  theme  of  the 
resurrection,  but  they  throw  much  light  which 
is  suggestive  and  comforting,  upon  the  mysteri- 
ous subject  of  the  resurrection  body,  the  glorified 


body.  The  apostle,  in  our  text,  runs  a  parallel 
between  the  natural  body  as  it  goes  down  to  the 
grave,  and  the  spiritual  body  as  it  comes  up 
from  the  grave,  and  in  doing  this,  he  employs 
tour  contrasts.  'Tt  is  sown  in  corruption,  it  is 
raised  in  incorruption:  It  is  sown  in  dishonor, 
it  is  raised  in  glory:  It  is  sown  in  weakness, 
it  is  raised  in  power:  It  is  sown  a  natural 
body,  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body.'' 

Notice  how  the  word  "sown"  is  used  here, 
instead  of  "buried."  In  the  apostle's  mind, 
death  is  not  a  scythe,  which  cuts  down  its  vic- 
tims and  destroys  them,  but  rather  a  sower, 
who  goes  forth  to  sow.  And  the  loved  ones 
who  have  died  in  Jesus,  like  seed  cherished 
in  the  bosom  of  the  earth,  will  come  forth  in 
newness  of  life.  They  moulder  into  dust,  it 
is  true,  but  everywhere  in  nature,  the  process 
of  decay  is  but  another  name  for  that  of 
growth.     Life  and  death  are  different  sides  of 


the  same  truth.  Germination  is  a  double 
work.  The  beginning  of  death  in  the  seed 
is  one  with  the  beginning  of  Hfe  in  the  stalk. 
The  first  indication  of  the  fresh  shoot  is  in  the 
breaking  up  of  the  seed.  The  extinction  of 
the  old  is  the  creation  of  the  new.  So  in  the 
resurrection,  "That  which  thou  sowest  is  not 
quickened  except  it  die."  Death  becomes 
the  minister  of  hfe.  The  grave  of  the  mor- 
tal is  the  cradle  of  the  immortal. 

I.  It  is  sown  a  natural  body,  it  is  raised  a 
spiritual  body.  This  contrast,  although  the 
last  of  the  four,  as  written  by  the  apostle,  is 
really  the  first  to  be  considered  in  logical  se- 
quence, for  it  constitutes  the  basis  of  the  resur- 
rection body.  As  it  stands,  however,  in  its 
English  dress,  it  fails  in  two  important  particu- 
lars to  convey  the  full  force  and  beauty  of  the 
apostle's  language.  It  is  sown  a  natural  body; 
2 


this  is  plain.  It  is  raised  a  spiritual  body; 
this  is  to  us  a  contradiction  of  terms.  How 
can  there  be  a  spiritual  body? 

A  body  is  material,  spirit  is  immaterial. 
To  conceive  of  them  both  as  one  is  impossi- 
ble. 

Again,  the  phrase  "spiritual  body"  improp- 
erly sends  the  mind  off  in  a  fruitless  attempt 
to  spiritualize  the  materia],  or  to  materialize 
the  spiritual,  so  as  to  form  a  shadowy  ethereal, 
something  midway  between  the  earthly  and 
the  heavenly,  which  shall  answer  to  a  spiritual 
body.  This,  as  we  shall  see,  is  not  the  mean- 
ing at  all.  The  conception  of  a  "spiritual 
body"  as  "composed  of  such  stuff  as  dreams 
are  made  of  "  has  no  warrant  in  the  text. 

The  thought  is  this.  The  ancients  regarded 
man  as  combining  in  himself  three  natures: 
first,  the  body;  second,  the  soul,  which  was 
the  animal  life  of  the  body,  which  man  has 


in  common  with  the  brute;  and  third,  the 
spirit,  which  was  the  immortal  part,  capable  of 
thought  and  moral  sentiment  and  action,  and 
which  the  brute  does  not  possess.  This  dis- 
tinction is  essential  in  order  to  an  understand- 
ing of  the  apostle.  The  brute,  according  to 
the  ancients,  had  only  two  parts,  body  and 
soul,  or  in  other  words,  material  substance  and 
animal  life.  But  to  man  the  third  was  added, 
the  rational,  imperishable  spirit,  or  what  we 
call  the  immortal  soul,  constituting  man  an 
intelligent,  accountable,  religious  being.  In 
this  way  the  words  are  used  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament. The  clause  before  us  would  be  liter- 
ally rendered  thus:  It  was  sown  a  soul-body, 
it  was  raised  a  spirit-body.  That  is,  it  had  an 
organization  in  this  life,  which  by  means  of 
its  animal  functions,  was  adapted  to  this  physi- 
cal world.  It  shall  have  in  the  life  to  come 
an  organization  with  functions  which  will  be 


12 


adapted  to  the  spiritual  world.  Here,  the 
spirit  is  incarnated  in  a  body  which  fits  it  for 
the  economy  of  the  earthly;  there,  it  shall 
have  an  organization  suited  to  the  economy 
of  the  heavenly.  As  the  spirit  is  enabled 
now  to  act  through  physical  organs,  and  is  in 
all  things  adapted  to  live  in  and  act  on  the 
material  in  the  sphere  in  which  it  moves,  so 
in  the  world  of  spirits  will  it  be  provided  with 
other  organs  equally  suited  to  its  altered  con- 
dition and  enabled  to  act  out  of  itself  upon 
things  spiritual  with  wonderfully  increased 
naturalness  and  facility.  The  fish  is  fitted  for 
the  water,  and  the  bird  for  the  air.  Their 
organs  put  them  in  perfect  relations  to  water 
and  air.  So  by  means  of  what  Paul  calls  the 
natural  body,  the  immortal  spirit  is  now  htted 
to  the  conditions  of  this  earthly  lite.  The 
material  body  is  the  medium  of  the  soul's 
contact  with  the  world  ot  sense.     But  when 


13 

called  upon  to  enter  into  the  unseen,  it  shall 
have  a  spiritual  body,  with  adaptations  to  a 
spirit  world.  It  will  not  be  a  material  body 
in  any  sense  that  we  can  conceive  of,  for  flesh 
and  blood  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven.  It  will,  however,  be  a  body  with 
adaptations  to  a  world  that  is  immaterial,  a 
body  through  which  the  spirit  will  come  into 
communication  with  the  heavenly,  as  it  does 
now  with  the  earthly. 

And  the  way  in  which  God  has  enabled 
the  subtle  rational  spirit  of  man  to  act  through 
physical  organs,  and  operate  upon  material 
things  to  supply  its  wants,  and  accomplish  its 
ends,  furnishes  the  evidence  that  in  that  higher 
state,  when  the  spirit  comes  to  be  surrounded 
by  the  spiritual,  there  will  be  an  adaptation 
and  harmony,  and  fine  play  of  faculty,  beyond 
all  that  has  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to 
conceive.       What    lapidary    can     catch    the 


sparkle   of   the  jewel*?      What  painter  can 
fasten  the  sunbeam  upon  his  canvas*?     Yet 
God  has  caused  the  spirit  to  enter  into  and 
vitalize  a  body  which  is  formed  from  the  dust 
of  the  earth.     He  has  so  wedded  the  one  to 
the  other  that  every  thought  flashes  in  the  eye, 
every  feeling  gives  its  hue  to  the  cheek,  every 
emotion  is  registered  in  the  pulse,  which  is  the 
soul's  thermometer.     Nature  is  as  plastic  un- 
der the   touch   of  the   spirit,  as  clay  in  the 
hands  of  the  potter.     The  soul  acts  on  and 
through  the  body  like  a  master  musician  upon 
his  instrument.     It  sits  enthroned  within  like 
a  monarch.     The  hand  is  its  prime  minister; 
the  toot  is  its  messenger :  the  eye  its  window, 
by  which  the  visible  is  revealed  to  the  invisi- 
ble; the  ear  looks  out  upon  the  landscape  of 
sound,  as  the  eye  upon  that  of  color  and  form; 
and  taste  is  the  sense  of  smell,  turned  inw\ard, 
that  that  which  is  found  to  be  pleasant  mav 


15 

be  known  to  be  good;  so  wonderfully  is  the 
spiritual  put  in  harmony  with  the  earthly;  so 
skillfully  is  the  sunbeam  braided  with  the 
cloud.  Reasoning  from  this,  what  will  be  the 
perfections  of  that  condition  in  the  resurrection 
life,  where  the  spirit  will  play  into  the  spiritual, 
as  it  does  now  into  the  material?  What  will 
be  the  delicacy  and  beauty  and  compass  of 
that  organism,  the  glorified  body,  by  which 
the  soul  of  the  redeemed  shall  act  from  out 
itself,  without  earthly  clog  or  hindrance  in  the 
atmosphere  of  Heaven,  by  the  river  of  life,  in 
^  the  sinless,  sorrowless,  deathless  realm  of  which 
Christ  is  the  center  and  circumference?  There 
is  a  natural  body;  there  is,  says  St.  Paul, — 
O  comforting  thought  I — a  spiritual  body. 

II.  It  is  sown  in  weakness,  it  is  raised  in 
power. 

This  is  the  second  contrast.     Having  con- 


i6 


celved  of  a  resurrection  body,  adapted  to  a 
spirit  world,  the  element  of  strength  must  be 
added.  But  how  can  an  intangible  spirit,  a 
something  as  light  and  viewless  as  air,  possess 
strength^  The  answer  is  at  hand.  God  is 
a  spirit,  and  still  He  is  all-powerful.  The 
universe  is  upborne  by  Him,  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting,  without  any  sense  of  burden  or 
fatigue.  The  orbs  glide  along  their  burning- 
circuits  with  the  same  exuberance  that  the 
lark  rises  towards  the  morning  sky,  that  words 
are  born  and  borne  on  the  breath  of  music. 
The  human  spirit,  though  finite,  is  like  the 
omnipotent  in  kind,  and  herein  is  the  hiding 
of  man's  power.  The  strength  in  man  which 
we  are  accustomed  to  attribute  to  the  body, 
really  inheres  in  the  soul.  The  power  of  a 
man  does  not  depend  primarily  upon  matter, 
but  upon  spirit;  the  body  is  simply  dead 
weight.     It  is  always  a  clog  to  the  spirit,  clip- 


17 

ping  its  airiest  pinion,  and  through  weakness 
and  infirmity,  often  overcoming  it.  Take  the 
subtle  essence  of  life  from  the  arm,  and  it  falls 
like  lead.  It  is  the  invisible  spirit  within 
which  puts  the  body  in  motion,  and  by  it,  as 
with  a  lever,  lifts  what  it  pleases.  The  strength 
of  the  human  soul  is  great  in  this  life;  when 
man  is  in  vigor  and  health,  his  spirit  is  able  to 
bear  his  heavy  form  as  easily  and  lithely  as 
the  wind  lifts  and  sports  with  a  feather.  But 
after  all,  the  prevailing  condition  in  this  life  is 
one  of  weakness  and  infirmity.  All  along, 
the  soul  outruns  the  body;  the  spirit  is  willing, 
but  the  flesh  is  weak.  The  fires  of  desire 
flash  up  and  consume  or  impair  the  furnace  in 
which  they  are  kindled.  We  long  to  do,  and 
are  held  in  check.  Our  powers  become  pros- 
trate. The  vital  functions,  by  degrees,  give 
way.  The  frail  body  goes  down  to  decay. 
•  By  a  single  stroke  of  the  pen,  the  apostle  has 

3 


drawn  a  vivid  picture  of  the  last  end  of  man. 
"It  is  sown  in  weakness."  How  the  Hght  of 
life  in  natural  death,  even  in  the  strongest, 
burns  faintly  and  more  faintly  through  weari- 
some days  and  nights,  and  then  expires. 

But, — "  it  is  raised  in  power."  As  the  eagle 
cuts  the  air,  so  shall  the  glorified  man  rejoice 
in  exuberance  of  strength.  He  shall  run  and 
not  be  weary,  he  shall  walk  and  not  faint. 
All  sense  of  weariness  and  fitigue  shall  be 
forever  passed  away.  No  exhausting  duty,  no 
dragging  the  jaded  spirits  and  worn  body,  after 
restless  nights,  to  toils  for  which  there  is  no 
zest.  There  will  be  the  flush  of  masterly 
and  unabating  strength.  Life  shall  be  given 
more  abundantly,  deeper  in  volume,  wider  in 
the  sweep  of  its  activity,  divine  in  its  depth 
and  richness.  Hear  this,  O  suffering  ones,  and 
take  heart!  Hear  this,  O  mourning  ones,  who 
have  parted  at  the  grave  with  those  once  fair 


^9 

and  beautiful  and  strong, — going  down  weary 
and  heavy  laden,  hear  this,  and  with  patience 
wait  I  Consider  this,  O  laboring  ones,  and 
work  on!  The  body,  though  sown  in  weak- 
ness, is  raised  in  power.  We  may  spend 
hours  of  mortal  fatigue;  we  may  see  vigor 
and  bloom  fading  from  hearth  and  home ;  but 
the  great  day  of  untiring,  of  ever-abounding 
strength,  is  at  hand. 

III.  It  is  sown  in  corruption,  it  is  raised  in 
incorruption.  The  body  goes  down  to  the 
grave,  as  an  old  dwelling,  left  to  itself,  goes  to 
decay.  The  clapboards  become  weather- 
stained  and  loose.  The  shutters  flap  in  the 
wind.  The  windows  are  broken;  the  paths 
moss-grown.  The  plastering  falls  from  the 
ceiling;  dust  and  cobwebs  gather  everywhere. 
A  damp,  dark  atmosphere,  fills  the  room; 
everything  is  mouldering  to  ruin. 


20 


So  with  the  human  body,  as  yeais  or  disease 
come  on.  In  the  pilgrimage  of  Hfe,  it  be- 
comes shattered  and  weather-beaten.  The 
locks  become  silvered  and  thin.  The  eye 
grows  dim;  the  voice  feeble;  the  brow  fur- 
rowed and  care-worn;  the  cheek  pale;  the 
breath  difficult,  and  the  hand  unsteady.  The 
elasticity  departs,  and  the  fires  of  life  burn 
low.  The  strength  and  vigor  of  physical 
manhood  wane.  Old  age  sanctified  is  beau- 
tiful. We  love  every  wrinkle,  every  infirmity, 
in  the  good  and  true.  Their  very  weaknesses 
are  invested  with  a  sacred  interest,  and  we 
cherish  them  the  more  as  their  feet  brush  the 
dews  on  Jordan's  bank,  and  we  feel  the  cross- 
ing near.  Nevertheless,  the  body  is  sown  in 
corruption.  Without  waiting  for  age,  how 
often,  as  now,  disease,  with  silent,  but  sure  and 
certain  tread,  approaches  the  fairest  and  most 
promising,  dismantling   and    laying    low  this 


21 


wonderful  earthly  palace  of  the  soul.  No 
medical  skill  can  baffle  it.  No  solicitude  of 
friends  can  avail.  Vigor,  by  degrees,  is  lost. 
This  mortal  tabernacle  is  brought  down  by 
death.  Dust  returns  to  dust,  earth  to  earth, 
ashes  to  ashes.  The  grave  closes  over  all. 
But,  "it  is  raised  in  incorruption." 
The  new  and  glorified  body  is  that  building 
eternally  in  the  heavens.  It  shall  never  be 
subject  to  disorganization  or  decay.  To  un- 
failing strength  is  added  undiminished  vigor 
There  shall  never  be  any  more  wasting  dis- 
ease. There  shall  be  no  more  pain.  The 
only  tears,  are  tears  of  joy.  The  only  sorrow, 
the  sorrow  for  past  unfaithfulness  and  ingrati- 
tude. 

But  by  being  raised  incorruptible  the  apos- 
tle does  not  simply  mean  that  we  shall  be  free 
from  sickness  and  death;  beyond  all  this  there 
will  be  a  perpetual  freshness,  like  the  delicacy 


22 


and  sweetness  of  a  new  growth.  The  "new- 
ness of  hfe"  will  be  like  the  spring  plant  filled 
to  overflowing  in  every  pore  with  nutritious 
and  refreshing  sap.  It  is  not  the  old  organi- 
zation made  incorruptible,  as  if  by  a  process 
of  embalming,  but  a  new  organization,  replete 
to  the  brim  with  the  sparkling  wine  of  life,  a 
fountain  whose  silver  spray  is  ever  flashing  in 
the  sun,  a  flower  ever  blooming,  a  divine  song 
ever  in  the  singing. 

The  aspiration  for  immortal  youth  is  uni- 
versal as  man.  The  depressed  and  imprisoned 
spirit  has  cried  unto  God  in  all  ages  from  the 
perishing  body,  saying,  "Let  me  be  as  the  sun 
rejoicing  in  strength,  as  the  moon  walking  in 
beauty,  as  the  stars  which  quaff  from  their 
golden  cups  liquid  brightness,  and  sparkle, 
shining  ever,  undimmed  never."  All  this,  and 
more,  is  to  be  realized  in  the  resurrection  body. 
The  hand  that  wipes  away  all  tears  shall  give 


an  unfading  lustre  to  the  eye,  and  the  bloom 
of  an  eternal  spring  to  the  cheek.  The  spirit 
that  gambols  in  the  lamb,  that  leaps  in  the 
waterfall,  that  sings  in  the  forest,  that  rides  on 
the  wind,  shall  live  and  pulse  forever  and  for- 
ever in  the  body  that  is  raised  in  incorruption. 

IV.  Finally,  it  is  sown  in  dishonor,  it  is 
raised  in  glory. 

The  word  dishonor  is  used  here  to  denote 
that  unsightliness  which  comes  over  the  dead, 
however  dying.  As  comely  in  life  as  our 
friends  may  have  been,  in  death,  by  a  wise 
law  of  God,  it  soon  departs,  and  instead  of 
retaining  their  remains  to  keep  fresh  our 
wounds,  our  Heavenly  Father  has  caused  dis- 
solution to  take  place,  so  that  we  long  to  have 
them  removed  to  the  house  appointed.  Job 
says:  "Thou  changest  his  countenance,  and 
sendest  him  away."     Abraham  wished  to  de- 


H 

posit  In  its  place  the  form  of  the  beautiful  and 
beloved  Sarah.  Her  presence,  when  the  spirit 
had  flown,  could  be  a  comfort  to  him  no 
longer. 

But  there  is  to  be  relief  from  all  these  sad 
and  painful  thoughts.  If  the  body  Is  sown  In 
dishonor.  It  is  raised  in  glory.  There  is  a 
scriptural  and  historical  significance  to  this 
word  "glory"  which  must  not  be  missed  here, 
if  we  would  have  the  full  comfort  which  our 
text  gives.  At  the  gate  of  Paradise,  in  con- 
nection with  the  sword  which  turned  every 
way,  there  was  a  supernatural  fiery  splendor. 
The  same  appeared  to  Moses  In  the  burning 
bush,  a  brilliant  flame  enveloping,  transfiguring 
the  bush,  yet  not  consuming  It.  The  same 
wondrous  lustre  appeared  in  the  pillar  of  fire 
that  went  before  the  Hebrew  encampment  In 
the  wilderness.  After  the  ark  crossed  the  Jor- 
dan, It  came  at  times  for  centuries.  In  preter- 


^5 

natural  brightness  above  its  cover,  and  between 
the  wings  of  the  cherubim.  It  often  filled 
the  temple.  Sometimes  it  was  called  a  cloud; 
at  other  times  a  smoke ;  now  and  then  a  flame ; 
finally,  the  shekinah.  This  word  signifies  to 
dwell  in  a  thing,  to  vivify  and  brighten  it  from 
within  outward;  to  make  an  object  luminous 
by  a  clear  outshining, — as  heat  turns  the  dull 
iron  to  a  glow, — as  the  moon  irradiates  wiih 
lambent  light  the  fleecy  cloud  drifting  upon 
its  disk. 

Now  this  luminous  splendor,  like  the  flash- 
ing up  of  the  rosy  morn,  is  what  is  known 
everywhere  in  the  Bible  as  Glory.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  suggestive,  yet  one  of  the  most 
difficult  words  to  define  in  the  Scriptures. 

This  is  the  word  which  Paul  applies  to  the 
resurrection  body.  Could  any  thing  be  more 
expressive  or  beautifur?  It  shall  be  raised  in 
GLORY.     Like  a  flower  transfigured  in  resplen- 

4 


dent  light,  like  the  phosphorescent  ocean  wave, 
like  the  crystal,  radiant  and  many-hued  in  the 
golden  sun,  will  be  the  body  raised  in  glory. 
Matter  itself  may  be  very  unearthly  and  ethe- 
real,— the  blue,  so  clear  and  deep,  of  the  dis- 
tant mountain  range,  the  seven-hued  Iris  that 
bends  over  the  fountain,  the  azure  of  the 
morning  heavens,  the  evening  cloud  flaming 
with  the  gold  of  sunset,  all  these  purely  mate- 
rial things  show  what  a  natural  body  raised 
from  the  dead  might  be.  But  when  to  this 
we  conceive  of  a  spiritual  body  adapted  to 
the  heavenly,  as  the  natural  body  is  to  the 
earthly,  coming  forth  in  incorruption,  in  power 
and  glory,  the  thought  is  lifted  to  a  range  in- 
conceivably grand  and  beautiful  and  comfort- 
ing.    "It  shall  be  raised  in  glory." 

"  We  shall  not  all  sleep,  but  we  shall  all  be 
changed,  for  this  corruptible  must  put  on  in- 
corruption, and  this  mortal  must  put  on  im^ 


27 

mortality.  Thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth 
us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
In  this  hour  of  sorrow  and  heart-ache,  these 
truths  of  the  resurrection  are  hke  the  shadow 
of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land.  Let  them 
be  as  the  deep  undercurrent  of  our  thought, 
affording  solace  and  comfort  while  we  affec- 
tionately recall  some  of  the  features  of  that 
pure  and  devoted  life,  the  passing  of  which 
from  this  lower  sphere,  leaves  many  hearts  in 
darkness. 

Eleanor  Bruce  Stephens,  wife  of  Henry  C. 
Stephens,  was  born  in  the  City  of  Brooklyn, 
State  of  New  York,  January  2ist,  1839.  She 
died  in  New  Britain,  Conn.,  Sept.  25th,  1868. 
She  lived  29  years  8  months  and  4  days. 
The  day  of  birth  and  death  will  be  cut  into 
marble,  but  the  life  that  lies  between  those 
bounds  cannot  be  recorded  there.     That  lives 


not  in  tablets  of  stone,  but  is  engraved  in 
human  hearts,  and  will  stand  forever  in  the 
Lamb's  book  of  life.  Many  words  would  not 
set  forth  in  order  the  things  concerning  this 
devoted  Christian  wife  and  mother  surely 
known  among  us.  But  a  few  words  shall  sum 
up  the  details  of  her  bright,  beautiful,  but 
brief  earthly  life,  for  affection's  sake,  and  recall 
some  of  the  leading  traits  in  her  Christian 
character  for  His  dear  sake  whose  grace  was 
honored  in  her  living,  and  whose  rich  promises 
were  fulfilled  in  her  dying. 

She  was  the  second  daughter  of  Moses  and 
Mary  L.  Kimball,  being  one  in  a  fimily  of 
five  children,  three  sons  and  two  daughters. 
Her  beloved  and  honored  father,  while  return- 
ing from  Boston,  in  the  autumn  of  1846,  to 
spend  the  Thanksgiving  festival  with  his 
family,  was  drowned  off  Fisher's  Island,  in 
Long   Island   Sound,   in  consequence  of  the 


terrible  disaster  which  occurred  to  the  steamer 
Atlantic.  The  bereaved  mother  removed  with 
her  children  to  the  pleasant  old  town  of  Kings- 
ton, on  the  Hudson,  where  the  five  subsequent 
years  of  Eleanor's  life  were  spent.  At  the 
end  of  this  time  the  mother  was  married  to  S. 
H.  Howard,  of  New  York  City,  which  union 
gave  to  Eleanor  a  delightful  Christian  home, 
until  her  own  marriage.  When  sixteen  years 
of  age,  having  been  religiously  trained  from 
her  infancy  in  the  household,  she  became  a 
faithful  disciple  of  Christ,  and  united  with  the 
15th  Street  Presbyterian  Church,  under  the 
care  of  Rev.  S.  D.  Alexander,  D.  D.  Her 
education  was  completed  at  the  Spingler  In- 
stitute, New  York  City,  where  she  was  associ- 
ated with  a  class  of  about  thirty-seven,  greatly 
beloved  by  all,  and  giving  high  promise  for 
the  future. 

On  the   18th  of  April,  i860,  she  was  mar- 


_^o 


ried  to  Henry  C.  Stephens,  and  went  to  her 
new  home,  in  West  Newton,  Mass.,  with 
brightest  hopes.  Six  happy  years  were  spent 
in  her  pleasant  home  there, — years  full  of  do- 
mestic comfort,  of  social  enjoyment  and  Chris- 
tian activity.  In  1867,  Mr.  Stephens  took  up 
his  home  in  New  Britain,  Conn.,  where,  atter 
litde  more  than  a  year,  her  cheertul  and  prom- 
ising life  suddenly  closed  before  the  midday. 
After  a  severe  illness  of  three  weeks,  from 
typhoid  fever,  she  fell  asleep  in  Jesus, — thus 
leaving  mothedess  her  two  beloved  children, 
daughters,  at  the  tender  ages  of  seven  and  two 
years  respectively.  But  as  her  sickness  was 
borne  with  great  Christian  patience  and  forti- 
tude, so  it  tenninated  in  perfect  resignation  to 
the  divine  will.  In  it  all,  there  was  neither 
murmuring  nor  doubt.  Her  faith  brightened 
till  the  last,  and  in  sorest  trial  gave  evidence 
of  having  been  born  of  he  Spirit,  more  marked 


3* 

than  any  seasons  of  health  and  prosperity  had 
revealed.     She  went  to  the  rest  that  remaineth 
to  the  people  of  God,  with  unfaltering  trust 
in  Him  who  is  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life. 
The  day-shut  of  this  mortal  life  was  the  day- 
dawn  to  her  soul,  and  so  the  better  life  began. 
On  entering  her  beautiful  home,  which  had 
been  fitted  up  anew  for  her  reception  by  the 
taste   and   pains-taking  of  her  husband,  she 
said,  "this  is  too  good  for  me;  I  shall  not  be 
spared  to  occupy  it  long."      In  her  sickness 
she  was  confident,  from  the  first,  she  should 
not  recover,  and  in  entire  composure  made 
every  preparation  for  her  death,  in  each  word 
and  act,  saying,  God's  will  he  done.     She  ofiien 
asked  for  the  singing  of  sacred  hymns,  and 
was  observed  to  be  much  in  earnest  prayer. 
When  asked  if  her  faith  in  Christ  was  firm 
in  view  of  the  coming  event,  she  said,  "I  gave 


M 


my  heart  to  Christ  when  I  was  sixteen  years 
old,  and  I  can  trust  Him  now,"  adding, 

"  jesiis  can  make  a  dying  bed 
Soft  as  downy  pillows  are." 

She  expressed  an  earnest  wish  to  see  her 
pastor,  and  said  she  was  conscious  that  she 
could  be  saved  only  through  the  grace  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  whose  death  was  a  sacrifice 
for  her  sin;  in  that  was  all  her  hope;  but,  she 
continued,  that  Saviour  is  very  precious  to  me, 
and  although  good  works  will  avail  me  no- 
thing, I  am  anxious  to  leave  something  from 
funds  which  I  hold  in  my  own  right,  for  the 
advancement  of  His  dear  Kingdom,  and  as  a 
testimonial  of  my  love  for  him.  As  her  suf- 
fering increased,  her  hold  upon  the  Saviour 
seemed  to  deepen.  At  the  morning  hour, 
near  the  last,  this  prayer  was  uttered  by  her: 
"-  0  God/  g/i'c  me  grace  to  live  day  by  day  to  thee:' 


33 

No  complaint  escaped  her  lips  during  all  those 
days  of  severest  trial;  no  doubt  as  to  the  prom- 
ises of  God;  no  question  as  to  her  acceptance 
with  the  Saviour;  not  even  a  regret  at  leaving 
a  world  which  manifold  blessings  had  in  so 
many  ways  made  bright  and  attractive  to  her. 
She  seemed  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  Redeemer 
summoning  her  to  walk  with  him  in  Paradise. 
With  cheerful  and  unhesitating  steps  she  arose 
and  left  all,  and  followed.  ''Am  I  not  nearing 
the  shimng  shore?''  she  said  to  the  physician  as 
he  approached,  just  before  her  death.  "  I  long 
to  go  home."  Precious  and  beloved  one  I — she 
was  near  the  shining  shore,  she  was  almost 
home.  That  stormy  Friday  night,  at  about 
half  past  ten,  after  days  of  greatest  anxiety  and 
suspense,  her  spirit  was  peacefully  and  calmly 
released;  apparently  unconscious  of  this  mor- 
tal world,  her  husband  and  mother,  and  other 
friends,  being  near  her,  her  eyes  were  turned 

5 


34 

eagerly  upward,  and  her  countenance  wore  a 
look  of  rapture  and  joyous  surprise,  as  if  the 
glories  of  the  other  world  were  already  break- 
ing upon  her. 

Thus  taken  from  the  husband  and  children 
of  her  love,  full  of  affection  for  her  mother, 
who  had  watched  over  her  through  her  sick- 
ness, her  brothers  and  sisters,  and  her  many 
friends,  and  grateful  for  all  that  had  been  done 
to  make  her  wearisome  days  and  nights  com- 
fortable, nothing  doubting,  through  the  rich 
grace  of  the  crucified  one,  she  went  to  be  w^ith 
Jesus. 

A  brief  funeral  service,  conducted  by  her 
own  pastor,  and  numerously  attended  by  sym- 
pathetic friends,  was  held  at  her  own  house  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  on  the  following 
Sunday.  On  Tuesday  afternoon,  at  three 
o'clock,  her  remains  having  been  carried  to 
New  York,  a  more  extended  funeral  ceremony 


35 

was  held  there  at  the  parental  home.  Her 
early  pastor,  Dr.  Alexander,  and  her  beloved 
family  relative.  Dr.  Cuyler  of  Brooklyn,  both 
of  whom  aided  in  the  consecration  of  her 
marriage  in  the  same  parlors  eight  years  before, 
were  present,  and  together  with  her  pastor  from 
New  Britain,  mingled  their  tears  in  the  com- 
mon sorrow,  and  spoke  w^ords  of  comfort  and 
healing,  as  the  spirit  gave  them  utterance.  A 
large  number  of  friends  and  relatives  were 
present  from  a  distance,  and  among  other  sin- 
cere mourners  were  eight  of  her  class  in  the 
Spingler  Institute,  her  death  being  the  first  in 
that  pleasant  circle,  of  which  she,  at  its  gath- 
erings, had  often  been  called  the  life.  On  the 
following  morning,  Wednesday,  30th,  when 
the  glory  of  autumn  was  on  the  foliage,  and 
golden  mist  was  in  all  the  air,  this  flower,  early 
faded,  was  borne  mid  the  perfume  of  flowers 
that  she  loved,  from  her  childhood  home,  from 


.6 


the  city  of  the  Hving,  to  Greenwood,  the  city 
of  the  dead,  and  by  loving  hands  left  to  await 
the  hour  when  Christ  shall  come  to  make  up 
his  jewels. 

So,  quietly  and  sweetly,  as  the  stars  go  out 
to  shine  again,  departed  the  life  of  this  fair 
young  disciple.  Some  things  in  her  life  strik- 
ingly illustrate  the  power  of  grace  in  her  heart. 
This  world  had  great  attractions  for  her.  She 
enjoyed  society.  She  loved  nature.  Her 
fresh,  joyous  spirit  rejoiced  in  all  pure  and 
beautiful  things.  Flowers  and  birds,  waters 
and  skies,  filled  her  with  delight.  She  had 
much  to  live  for, — many  friends,  a  pleasant 
home,  a  fond  husband,  precious  children,  and 
work  that  she  gladly  engaged  in  for  the  glory 
of  her  Master.  Life  opened  with  many 
charms,  and  possessing  health  and  exuberance 
of  spirits,  whic^h  were  the  admiration,   if  not 


37 

the  envy  of  all  who  saw  her,  many  happy 
years  were  promised.  Yet  w^ith  all  its  attrac- 
tions, she  was  ready  to  go  and  leave  the  world 
when  the  Saviour  called.  There  w^as  more  to 
die  for  than  to  live  for,  for  dying  was  going 
home  to  the  Father's  house  where  there  are 
many  mansions.  But  it  was  Christ  formed  in 
her  the  hope  of  glory,  that  gave  her  this  vic- 
tory. Two  qualities  in  her  character,  in  some 
sense  opposite,  imparted  to  her  life  much  of 
the  charm  it  possessed,  and  the  strong  Chris- 
tian influence  she  wielded.  These  character- 
istics were  cheerfulness  and  joyousness  on  the 
one  hand,  combined  with  a  staunch  and  un- 
wavering faith  in  the  strictest  evangelical  doc- 
trines on  the  other.  Her  happy  spirits  over- 
flowed evermore.  Beautiful  in  person  as  in 
character,  and  rejoicing  in  the  assurance  of 
faith,  the  cheerfulness  of  her  pure  nature  w^as 
irresistible.     None  could  be  with  her  and  fail 


38 

to  feel  the  sunlight  of  her  soul.  Yet  if  she 
was  cheerful,  she  was  conscientious  even  in 
the  smallest  affairs  of  her  daily  life.  If  she 
was  joyous,  it  was  never  at  the  expense  ot 
truth,  or  her  Saviour's  honor.  She  received 
the  whole  counsel  of  God,  and  would  yield 
to  no  laxity  of  view  in  the  least  point  of  doc- 
trine. She  contended  earnestly  for  the  faith 
once  delivered  to  the  saints,  and  gave  little 
countenance  to  any  modern  usage  which 
seemed  a  departure  from  the  strict  letter  of 
truth.  She  remembered  the  Sabbath  day  and 
kept  it  holy.  She  eschewed  doubtful  amuse- 
ments. She  was  a  constant  and  devout  attend- 
ant upon  all  the  ordinances  of  God's  House. 
She  was  prayerful  and  painstaking  in  the  reli- 
gious education  of  her  children.  She  was 
early  found  a  teacher  in  city  mission  schools. 
Her  influence  over  impenitent  young  men  was 
very  great,  leading  them  from  inditference  and 


5^ 

from  skepticism  to  the  feet  of  her  own  Saviour, 
and  since  her  death,  some  converted  through 
her  influence  rise  up  to  call  her  blessed. 
Faithful  in  domestic  duty,  her  heart  was  yet 
more  in  the  service  of  her  master.  Strong  and 
pronounced  in  her  convictions  of  right  and 
duty,  it  was  in  her  private  devotions,  which 
nothing  could  induce  her  to  forego,  that  her 
love  to  the  Saviour  kindled  into  brightest 
flame.  Entering  heartily  into  social  life,  it 
was  when  the  themes  of  practical  religion 
were  introduced  that  her  heart  glowed  with 
especial  fervor.  Ready  to  lend  her  aid  in 
every  good  work,  it  was  when  the  impenitent 
were  to  be  brought  to  Christ,  that  her  efforts 
were  given  with  heartiest  consent. 

The  following  words  from  a  classmate  at 
the  Spingler  Institute,  and  who  has  been  Sec- 
retary of  the  class  for  many  years  since,  know- 
ing the  deceased  well,  hnd  a  fitting  place  here: 


40 

"Eleanor  Bruce  Kimball,  a  member  of  the 
class  of  1858,  at  Spingler  Institute,  passing 
away  from  us,  has  left  a  beautiful  memorv\ 
Lovely  in  person  as  in  character, — a  consistent, 
earnest  Christian, — simple,  innocent,  yet  stead- 
fast in  her  principles, — her  influence  was  al- 
ways for  good. 

*  None  knew  her  hut  to  love  her, 
None  named  her  but  to  praise.' 

Faithful  in  the  discharge  of  her  duties,  dili- 
gent in  her  studies,  regular  in  her  attendance 
and  attention  to  her  instructors,  she  won  alike 
the  love  and  respect  of  teachers  and  fellow 
pupils.  The  germs  of  a  fine  nature,  then  ap- 
parent, were  expanded  and  ripened  into  a  beau- 
tiful womanhood,  and  the  bud  opening  into 
the  flower  has  been  transplanted  thus  early  to 
the  Paradise  of  her  God, — the  first  link 
broken  of  the  chain  bound  together  in  school 


41 

days, — the   first    life   of  our  class   begun   in 
Heaven. 

God  be  thanked  that  in  this  retrospect  she 
has  left  us  a  beautiful  memory,  pointing  ever 
heavenward.  God  be  thanked  that  looking 
forward  in  the  Future,  to  our  Harvest  Home, 
we  have  the  blessed  hope  that  this  our  first 
sheaf  has  been  safely  gathered  into  the 
Heavenly  Garner." 


And  now  Eleanor,  the  fair,  the  beautiful, 
the  happy-hearted,  is  gone  forever.  Her  life, 
which  was  a  song,  has  sung  itself  out  on  the 
earth,  but  its  melody  still  is  left  in  many 
homes  and  hearts.  She  was  so  full  of  health 
and  promise  in  her  life  that  we  could  not  think 
of  death  in  connection  with  her.  Yet  in  her 
death  she  was  so  full  of  hope  and  trust,  and 
longing  for  her  Saviour,  that  we  somehow 
could  not  think  of  her  coming  back  to  the 
6 


42 


cares  and  trials  of  this  world  any  more.  Her 
eye  was  on  the  gate  Beautiful,  through  which 
her  heart  had  already  entered  into  the  Celestial 
City. 


As  one  of  many  tender  and  affectionate  letters 
commemorating  the  life-long  worth  of  the  de- 
parted, the  following  from  Rev.  Dr.  Cuyler,  to 
iMr.  Stephens,  will  doubtless  interest  all  friends 
of  the  afflicted  circle. 

"  136  Oxford-st., 
"Brooklyn,  March  15,  1869. 
'^''My  Dear  Friend: 

*  *  *  *  I  would  like  to  prepare 
a  brief  tribute  to  the  memory  of  your  beloved 
wife  and  my  beloved  "cousin  Ellie"; — to  pen  my 
regard  for  her  sweet  loveliness  of  character,  for 
her  tender  womanly  virtues  and  graces,  for  her 
consistent  Christ-like  piety.  She  was  as  attractive 
in  character  as  she  was  in  person.  I  could  scarce- 
ly say  more ;  for  when  I  first  saw  her  in  her 
maidenly  beauty  of  eighteen,  I  thought  her  face 
one  of  the  sweetest  I  had  ever  met. 

Should     I    write   all  that   my    wife  and   myself 
thought  of  her  and  often  said  of  her  to  each  other, 


44 


It  might  be  set  down  to  the  partiahty  of  ^i?i-ship  ; 
for  we  always  felt  towards  Ellie  as  If  she  were  a 
sister.  We  regret  that  of  late  years  we  saw  her 
so  seldom.  We  often  wished  that  she  and  her 
sister  Annie  could  both  be  nearer  to  us,  where  we 
might  often  enjoy  their  society. 

Your  wife  had  won  a  great  hold  on  many, 
many  hearts.  Her  early  and  sudden  departure 
from  your  home  to  her  Father's  House  In  glory, 
was  as  sore  a  sorrow  to  us  as  It  was  a  blessed 
transition  to  her  redeemed  spirit. 

In  your  tributes  of  respect  and  aftectlon  for 
dear  Ellie,  let  me  in  my  own  behalf  and  of  my 
wife,  lay  on  her  new-made  tomb,  this  brief  simple 
offering  of  our  love. 

We  looked  for  her  rest'nig-place^  In  Greenwood, 
on  Saturday  last  ;  we  shall  yet  look  for  her  happy 
spirit  In  the  heaxenly  world,  I  trust,  and  hope  to 
renew  and  prolong  there  our  pure,  sincere  affec- 
tion. 

Yours,  ever  truly, 

THEO.  L.  CUYLER." 


The  beloved  wife  of  the  writer  of  the  preceding 
letter,  terribly  bereaved  only  five  months  before 
by  the  death  of  her  twin  boy  "  Georgie,"  in  a 
familiar  letter  to  the  mother  of  Eleanor  just  after 
receipt  of  tidings  of  Eleanor's  death,  reflects,  in 
part,  as  follows  : 

tt  ;»;  ;■:  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^. 

How  could  we  dream,  when  in  our  last  conver- 
sation together,  we  recounted  our  past  and  present 
sorrows,  that  so  soon  this  new  and  overwhelming 
grief  was  to  be  added  to  your  cup  and  mine,  al- 
ready overflowing.  Ellie,  darling  Ellie — gone  ! 
itnpossible !  As  I  gaze  with  a  certain  fascination 
on  her  sweet  face  now  before  me,  and  then  read 
over  and  over  (which  I  have  done  many  times  to- 
day) her  last  affectionate  notes,  full  of  tender  sym- 
pathy, it  seems  only  a  wild  rumor  which  waits  for 
confirmation.  Oh  !  how  Earth  is  losing  its  lustre 
and  Heaven  taking  on  a  brighter  hue,  as  each  day 
some  flower,  ripe  for  glory,  is  transplanted  to  the 
Paradise  of  God !     *  '^'  '''  "^^  "^^        '•' 


46 


On  the  2ist  of  April,  precious  Ellie  writes, — 
^  What  can  I  say  to  you,  my  dear  Cousin,  in  this 
dark  hour,  so  suddenly  bereaved  of  your  darling 
boy  !  God  has  a  higher  and  holier  mission  for 
him  than  the  fondest  parent  here  on  earth  could 
have  dreamed  or  hoped,  and  he  is  forever  free 
from  care,  pain,  and  temptation.  He  may  do  more 
for  Jesus  by  his  early  death,  than  if  longer  spared 
to  light  your  hearts  and  homes.' 

'  I  little  thought  I  should  never  see  the  dear  little 
face  again.  [Ah  !  little  thought  she  should  see  it 
so  soo?i.']  How  my  heart  ached  for  you  when  I 
heard  the  sad  announcement  from  the  paper  !  My 
thought  and  prayers  are  with  you,  that  the  Com- 
forter may  abide  within  you,  and  give  you  peace, 
and  make  you  to  look  be)  ond  the  veil,  and  feel 
he    is   ?iot  lost  but  gone  be/ore.' 

'Let  Ellie's  words  cheer  us,  and  change  our  night 
of  weeping  into  a  morning  of  joy.  But  the  heart 
shudders  and  grows  chill  with  its  sense  of  loss; 
*  *  *  a  loss  to  each  remaining  loved  one,  more 
intensely  felt  and  realized  with  the  passing  of 
every  month,  when  she,  our  idol^  comes  not  back 
again." 


Another  friend,  an  esteemed  clergyman  in  Ver- 
mont, in  writing  the  bereaved  husband  on  the  day 
of  the  funeral,  says  : 

IC  :■;  '^  ^  *  t-  *  *  * 

To  tell  you  how  highly  we  esteemed  her — how 
noble  we  thought  her  character — how  Christian 
her  life,  would  be  of  little  value  ;  for  how  slight 
was  our  knowledge  of  her  worth  as  compared  with 
your  own  !  And  still  we  would  fain  bear  our  trib- 
ute of  loving  praise  to  her  memory,  as  she  is  'gath- 
ered this  day  to  her  fathers.'  From  that  pleasant 
evening,  years  ago,  when  I  first  met  her  in  Bur- 
lington, I  have  prized  her  friendship,  and  the  more 
I  have  known  her  the  more  I  have  seen  to  admire 
and  respect,  and  the  greater  depth  of  character  she 
has  manifested ;  and  I  have  always  felt  that  she 
was  a  noh/e^  Christian  woman.  The  memory  of 
such  an  one  is  blessed ! — a  precious  legacy  to  you 
and  her  children. 

She  has  fallen  asleep,  and  you  have  not  to  sor- 
row as  those  who  have  no  hope  ;  for,  as  you  be- 


48 


lieve  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so  she 
that  sleeps  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  Him. 
Heaven  is  nearer  to  you  than  before.  The  door 
has  opened  and  you  have  caught  a  vision  of  its 
glory  as  the  dear  one  entered  it,  to  go  no  more  out 
forever." 

Very  many  other  letters  equally  worthy  and 
emphatically  attesting  the  deep  love  and  honor 
which  this  excellent  woman  had  won  from  all 
privileged  to  know  her,  have  been  received,  giving 
a  sweet  cheer  In  the  afflicted  circle ;  but  for  the 
purpose  of  this  little  volume  one  more  extract  must 
suffice.  Coming  from  a  letter  written  by  an  in- 
timate friend,  for  himself  and  wife,  to  Mr.  Stephens, 
just  after  their  return  from  the  funeral,  it  will 
partly  Illustrate  the  impression  received  by  all  who 
were  present  on  that  mournful  occasion  : 

"  Maplewood,  Oct.  1st,  1868. 

5|;  ;iJ  *  H<  *  '\i  * 

;tc  *  >i<  *  * 

^'  *  *  *  *       Our  visit  to  New 

York,  though  on  so  sad  an  errand,  had  many  things 
to  make  it  pleasant, — the  dark  cloud  had  its  silver 
lining. 


49 


As  sometimes,  after  the  sun  has  set  and  gone 
from  our  sight,  his  hght  still  gilds  the  clouds 
through  which  he  has  passed  in  his  onward  course 
to  bless  the  people  of  other  lands,  so,  it  seems  to 
me,  was  reflected  back  on  the  saddened  hearts  of 
all  the  mourners,  something  of  the  brightness  and 
glory  of  that  pure  spirit  that  had  passed  from  us, 
and  been  hailed  with  joy  by  an  innumerable  com- 
pany of  kindred  spirits.  Each  seemed  to  feel  a 
personal  loss,  and  equally  did  each  seem  to  recog- 
nize the  peculiar  light  and  beauty  of  the  life  of  the 
departed.  No  'one  attended  the  funeral  out  of 
mere  ceremony,  and  none  spoke  words  of  praise 
they  did  not  feel.  I  hardly  need  say  to  you  that 
among  our  many  acquaintances  no  one  had  en- 
deared herself  to  us  more,  if  so  much  as  your  dear 
Ellie,  she  was  so  frank,  so  pure,  so  cheerful. 

'  To  know  her  was  to  love  her — 
To  name  her  was  to  praise.' 

She  is  gone — Oh  !  how  sad  the  thought ! — but 
the  lesson  of  her  life  is  left  us,  and  it  seems  to 
say — ''this  is  the  wa}\  walk  ye  in  it'  And  if  we 
will  but  heed  the  voice,  and  follow  in  her  footsteps, 
the  blessed  promise  is  ours,  that  soon  we  will  join 
her  in  our  Father's  house." 
7 


LINES 

In  memory  of  Mrs.    Henry  C.  Stephens,  who  died 
September  25th,  1868. 

BY 

MISS     CYNTHIA     BULLOCK, 

who  has  been  blind  from  infancy,   and  was  a  personal 

friend  of  the  deceased. 


The  star  whose  soft  and  hallowed  light 
Diffused  a  radiance  where  it  shone, — 

Perfumed  the  soul  in  grief's  dark  night 
With  a  sweet  influence  all  its  own, — 

Shines  not  upon  life's  fitful  sky. 

But  leaves  it  wrapt  in  deepest  gloom  ; 

While  bleeding  hearts  send  up  the  cry. 

Our  Ellie  fills  the  iozv,  lone  tomb. 


^2 


But,  in  youth's  golden  roseate  hours. 

When  joy  was  full,  when  hope  was  bright. 
She  consecrated  all  her  powers 

To  God,  the  source  of  life  and  light. 
JVe  knew  it  by  the  life  she  led, — 

Her  daily  sacrifice  of  love, — 
Her  words  of  faith, — the  words  she  said 

To  solace  grief,  and  want  remove. 

Life  was  replete  with  joyous  bliss. 

When  God,  all-wise,  pronounced  the  word, 
''My  child  shall  shine  zvhere  glory  is. 

Shall  hejorever  with  the  Lord.'" 
In  low,  sweet  tones,  she  breathed  a  prayer, — 

*'  Lord,  give  me  grace  to  live  to  thee. 
And  strength  my  needed  cross  to  hear ; 

So  day  by  day  thx  child  to  be.'' 

Oh  !   'twas  a  privilege  rich  and  high, 
Her  dying  bed  to  stand  beside ; — 

To  mark  her  raptur'd  beaming  eye, — 
Her  perfect  trust  in  Christ,  her  guide. 

To  weeping  friends  how  sweet  the  thought, 
— Blessed  balm  for  hearts  that  bleed, — 


53 


Jesus  has  her  salvation  wrought. 
And  she  /s  glonjied  indeed. 

Dear  weeping  friends,  trust  ye  in  God, 

Till  your  Redeemer's  voice  ye  hear, — 
*'  Now  enter  ye  " — your  last  abode  ; 

Your  dear  ones  wait  to  greet  you  there. 
Then  will  ye  sing  the  song  they  sing, — 

The  song — eternity  began  ; 
Glory  to  Jesus,  King  of  Kings, 

While  Worlds  on  Worlds  respond — Amen. 


In  the  way  of  righteousness  is  life;   and  in  the  pathway 
thereof  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  Prov.  xii :    28. 


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